


every unspoken thing

by j_gabrielle



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I just want my Soviet Grandads to be happy ok, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: They hardly speak when they’re like this; pressed tight and close, every unspoken thing spoken in a language of touches and gazes, of kisses and synced breathing, because thishasto be enough. It must be.[Russian Translation bytteawohcan be found onficbookhere]





	every unspoken thing

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [every unspoken thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128820) by [tteawoh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tteawoh/pseuds/tteawoh)



> [Originally posted on my Tumblr](https://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/post/185372846217/fic-every-unspoken-thing-valoris-fluff-rated)

Boris curses and Valery leans back far enough to see him at the kitchen door. “Dog shit. _Fucking_ dog shit,” He grumbles. The dogs in question bark and chase his feet.

Valery laughs, amused. “Oh, just you wait. It’ll happen to you too,” Boris scoffs, scraping his shoe sole onto the grass.

“Yes, but it’s already happened to you, hasn’t it?”

“The sheer cheek I get from you…” Boris shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. Reaching into the house, he grabs the car keys. “I’m headed to the shops. You need anything?”

 _Yes, I do, I need you_ , some small voice in him says. Boris waits patiently at the door for his answer, and Valery ducks his head down to the dishes he’s been doing.

“We’re out of milk.”

-

Lunch is a simple soup and bread affair with the radio on. Valery catches tendrils of the poetry being read, and finds that he can’t quite relate to the bittersweet longing for a place he has never been. How could he when Boris was here with him?

Said man in question is reading the newspaper out loud under his breath. Valery is reminded of monks at pray and meditation, though drawing that comparison of Boris to a profession that thrives on calm and order makes him chuckle a little.

“Something funny?”

Valery takes a deep drag of his cigarette, shaking his head slowly. “Just thought of something, that’s all.”

He taps away a column of ash, looking up to see that Boris is watching him. That steely blue eyed gaze pins him in place. His heart stutters. Valery looks away to the side before back again to Boris.

“Nap?”

And then there it is again. That small knowing smile; soft, amused and with a hint of desire.

-

They don’t get naked, they never do. Too much danger if caught exposed as such. They get as close to it as possible; underthings and keeping the socks on. It’s never enough, and Valery often wishes that they lived in a kinder and more enlightened world where theirs was not one that dare not speak its name.

Boris’ touch anchors him to the present. His eyes a question. They hardly speak when they’re like this; pressed tight and close, every unspoken thing spoken in a language of touches and gazes, of kisses and synced breathing, because this _has_ to be enough. It must be.

In answer, Valery takes Boris by hand, lifting his knuckles to his lips, mouthing the words he cannot put to sound. Boris hears it anyways. He pulls him closer still, nuzzling nose to nose, tasting the vodka and cigarettes in their shared breath. Valery thinks he laughs a little, loving the way Boris answers him in same.

-

That night they sit in the garden. It’s summer and the radio is playing some patriotic tune. They’re not listening.

Boris taps his little finger to Valery’s. When he looks over, the man has his face screwed in determination. “Valera, I–”

“I know,” He interjects with a smile.

Boris looks affronted, before tilting his head in fond exasperation. “You know?”

“Yes,” Valery says, hooking their fingers together. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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